


Burgers and Milkshakes

by BadWolf303



Series: When Larry Met Freddy [7]
Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:48:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf303/pseuds/BadWolf303
Summary: "Oh! I think I've got some Cap'n Crunch left somewhere!" Freddy starts to climb out of the bed, but Larry grabs him around the waist, and when Freddy turns to look at him...well, Larry looks pretty horrified.





	Burgers and Milkshakes

Freddy could stay here for-fucking-ever, wrapped in his cheap ass sheets, sweating in his little ass apartment smoking a cigarette with Larry right beside him. And, well, sure, he could use some fucking A.C. or at the very least a goddamn fan, but they're sweaty with something other than the heat, and Freddy kinda likes that.

He kinda likes that a whole fucking lot, okay?

His stomach rumbles. He could probably use some food, too, but that's a luxury that'll have to wait, because he really could stay here forever, and he blows smoke rings that float up and break against the ceiling and Larry's got a hand playing with Freddy's hair, and food can fucking wait.

That is, until Freddy's stomach growls loud enough to practically fucking echo in that small apartment, and Larry laughs--that kind of deep laugh that vibrates right against Freddy's body and he fucking loves it--and he supposes eating something to get their energy back up really wouldn't be a bad thing, anyway.

"Oh! I think I've got some Cap'n Crunch left somewhere!"

Freddy starts to climb out of the bed, but Larry grabs him around the waist, and when Freddy turns to look at him...well, Larry looks pretty fucking horrified. "What? What happened, what'd I do?" Freddy asks, because a look like that really belongs on the other side of his badge and gun, not tucked up all naked in his bed.

"I swear to fucking God, kid, you better be joking," Larry says, and Freddy actually starts replaying shit in his head because he didn't think he said anything funny.

"You don't have to eat it," Freddy says. "I think I've got some peanut butter or something if you--"

"Stop talking," Larry says. "Please, just fucking stop talking. You? You're going to go get that pretty ass of yours in the shower, and we're going to clean up so I can take you out somewhere for a goddamn decent meal."

Freddy feels his ears turning pink. "You don't gotta do that."

Larry shakes his head and reaches to pull Freddy's cigarette out of his mouth, putting it out in the ashtray on the nightstand next to him. "Yeah, I really do. No boy of mine is gonna be sitting around eating nothin' but crap."

"I happen to like that crap." Freddy smirks, because he kinda likes that Larry is all wound up about this.

Larry climbs out of the bed and kicks around at the pile of clothes on the floor for his pants. "Yeah, well, I happen to like you, and you can't fucking live on nothin' but cigarettes and that sugar shit."

"Been doing just fine," Freddy says, because now Freddy just wants to keep Larry wound up by being a little shit. "Plus, I bet it makes my spunk taste sweet."

That just about does it. Larry looks like he's either gonna laugh or scream, and Freddy still just fucking loves it. "Get in the fucking shower, I'm buying you a goddamn burger at least."

So they go out for a burger. And honestly? It's the best fucking burger Freddy has ever had the privilege of shoving in his mouth. And he does shove it all in his mouth. "You're fucking disgusting, you know that?" Larry says, as he watches Freddy without moving to eat his own burger yet.

The tips of Freddy's ears and the back of his neck grow warm, and he reaches for a napkin to wipe at his face. "Sorry," he says, but his mouth is still full so really, he's just proving Larry's point.

To his surprise, Larry laughs. "Don't get me wrong, I'm the asshole who finds it goddamn charming, but seriously, where the fuck did you learn how to eat?"

Freddy swallows (makes a show of it, because he's a cheeky shit) and gives Larry one of his biggest, toothiest smiles.

Larry rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his own burger. The hypocrite takes a big ass bite himself, and while Freddy wants to point that out--Larry ain't the cleanest eater either, okay--he just kinda...stares at Larry's mouth while he licks the ketchup off his lips.

"I'll tell you one thing," Larry says, "if you had a wife, she sure as shit wouldn't tolerate those kind of table manners."

"What?" Freddy says, his mouth full again, but then Larry's hand is reaching for Freddy's, and Larry's playing with the bare spot on Freddy's ring finger. "Oh."

"Part of the cover, then?"

Freddy puts down his burger. "In more ways than one."

He doesn't really wanna have this conversation. He doesn't much like reminding Larry that he's the cop who lied and betrayed him. Doesn't much like discussing his cover.

Besides, how lame does it make him sound to say, "Yeah, man, I wore the ring because I'm a fucking joke and my partner thought it'd make you all take me more seriously. Oh, and it goes without saying it'd hopefully throw you crooks off my faggy little scent."

Freddy looks up because Larry chokes on his coffee, and Freddy realizes he said that shit out loud.

Larry wipes his face with his napkin and leans forward in their booth. There's really no one here--just the wait and kitchen staff and a few people on the other side of the diner--but Larry leaning forward suddenly makes it feel all the more private anyway. "That ring didn't make us take you seriously, kid. You're a good fucking liar. We took you seriously all on your goddamn own."

"I don't wanna talk about this shit," Freddy says.

"Hey," Larry says, and reaches his hand out again, this time to actually take Freddy's in his own. And Freddy? Freddy flinches, even if there's hardly anyone in this diner, even if Larry is here and his and wouldn't let anyone hurt him. Because Freddy is the closeted undercover cop, and he doesn't know how to do this shit. He really fucking doesn't.

And Freddy's still scared, okay? He can't fucking help it.

"Hey," Larry says again, his hand holding Freddy's even tighter. "You're all good, Freddo. We'll put all this shit behind us. Soon, even. You hear me?"

All this shit. Freddy wonders if Larry means the heist, or the lies and betrayal and his almost brain-splattered apartment walls. Wonders if he means Freddy's history as the queer little guy no one gave a shit about.

It all sounds pretty good, to be honest. A little too fucking good, really. Freddy's still half convinced one of them is gonna die before this is all over. It's what he dreams about, what he's been dreaming about for weeks. He thought confessing to Larry would make that all stop.

But he's still alive, and now those thoughts and dreams, the ones where Freddy's the reason Larry's life is over, just hurt more.

"We need a plan," Larry suddenly says. "Putting it off isn't doing either of us any favors."

He's right, but Freddy's been trying to figure this out for a while. He's always come up empty. "I've got nothing. Nothing short of me ending up in wit sec--"

"No fucking way."

"Then I've got nothing, man."

"Tell me what they're gonna to do," Larry says. "What's the plan, huh? What are those pigs planning to do?"

Freddy doesn't much feel like pointing out that he's technically one of those pigs. He's also not entirely sure why he's suddenly hesitating.

"I'm not gonna fuck you up, kid," Larry says, because he can read right through that hesitation.

But Larry's already fucked him up. In more ways than one. "They'll have eyes on us, but they're not supposed to make a move until Joe shows up at the rendezvous. That's when they'd move in. They want Joe. The rest of us...of you..."

"We're the fucking cherry on the sundae."

Freddy exhales. "Yeah."

They both grow quiet. Freddy's stomach kinda hurts. Maybe he did eat that burger too quickly.

"We could change the rendezvous," Larry says.

"What?"

"You'll tell Joe to change the rendezvous."

"I thought you didn't want me to tell Joe I was a cop?"

"You fucking will never tell fucking Joe Cabot you're a goddamn cop," Larry says, and his hand grips his coffee mug so tightly, Freddy worries it might shatter. "You'll tell him as one of us. Joe trusts me, and I trust you. So we make Joe trust you. And you tell him you think the rendezvous is compromised."

Freddy looks down at his nearly-finished burger. Contemplates the situation. "How would I know that?"

"Maybe you're sucking a cop."

"I'm not telling Joe fucking Cabot I'm sucking a cop!"

"Something wrong with sucking a cop?"

Freddy's about to say "no fucking shit!" but then he sees that stupid smirk on Larry's face and he realizes--oh--Larry is most definitely sucking and fucking a cop, so Freddy better choose his next words carefully if he ever wants to be sucked and fucked again. "I don't want Joe fucking Cabot to know I'm queer, okay?"

"You suck a cop for information, Papa won't give a fuck about your sexuality."

Freddy narrows his eyes. "You know this from experience, then?"

Larry does not appreciate that comment. Freddy pretty much regrets it the moment Larry's eyes go dark and intense on his. "You're a fucking asshole when you feel backed into a corner, you know that, right?"

Freddy sighs, rubs his temple. "This isn't how I imagined this first date going."

Larry's entire face changes almost immediately. From dark to light in a matter of fucking seconds. "First date?"

"Oh, shit. You know what I fucking mean."

Larry looks fucking delighted, with his shit eating grin. He winks. "When I take you out on a date, kid, you'll know it."

Freddy actually squirms in his seat, his cheeks burning up with his ears and neck. "I'll hold you to that, then."

"Once we put this shit behind us."

Freddy takes a deep breath. "Once we put this shit behind us. But I'm not telling Joe Cabot I sucked a cop for information." He pauses for a moment. "And I'm sorry about what I said. You like my pretty cock too much to be faking it." 

Larry laughs. "Ain't that the truth." He pauses now, too. Leans in close again. "And I love you, asshole. That ain't for show, either. But if you tell Joe you got intel, and I back you up, he'll trust you. And that's good, that's security that you don't get yourself fucking killed. And in the meantime, he moves the rendezvous, we get the job done, and we get the fuck out of here."

Freddy makes a face. "So I sucked a cop."

"You sucked a cop."

"And he sang like a motherfucker?"

Larry winks again. That fucking wink does things to Freddy's insides. "You're very good at sucking cock."

Freddy smirks. "Now that I know you know from experience."

"Haven't made me sing."

"Not yet, old man."

"Watch your fucking mouth."

Freddy gives Larry a cheeky grin. If he's gonna be a brat, he's gonna go all the fuck out and be a brat. "Can I order a milkshake?"

Larry rolls his eyes, smile on his face that Freddy is damn proud he put there, and lifts a hand to wave the waitress back over. "Yeah, you can have a goddamn milkshake. Should I ask for two straws?"

"That how you picked up chicks in the 50s?"

"Shut the fuck up, kid," Larry says, and Freddy snorts. Larry orders him a milkshake, and they fall into silence that's more comfortable than Freddy has ever sat with another guy in before.

He thinks about Joe Cabot--about telling Joe he's sucked a cop for information--and how Larry says Joe won't give a fuck about Freddy's sexuality because of the intel. Larry's all about keeping Freddy safe from Joe right now, so Freddy's trying to believe him...but Joe's a fucking dangerous criminal, and the criminal world is no place to be queer any more than the force is. The only way that Larry could be so sure that Joe won't give a fuck is if he knows, for real, from experience.

"Joe know you like guys?" Freddy asks. "I mean..."

Larry shrugs. "Joe and I go way back. You get to know a guy. You hear things. Joe doesn't give a fuck who I fuck so long as I do right by him. Doesn't mean I go gossiping with him, but he knew about 'Bama, and he knew about the people that came and went before her."

"You guys are close." The waitress brings Freddy his milkshake. He's not sure he wants it anymore. "You call the guy Papa. He hasn't fucked you up or left you behind 'cause you're queer. You guys are really fucking close."

Larry shrugs again.

"I'm sorry, man. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm gonna fuck up your life. I've fucked up your life."

Larry goes quiet. He cracks his neck and looks out the window. Freddy thinks maybe he's thinking Freddy's right. Maybe he's thinking he's made a big fucking mistake that's not worth it.

But then Larry says, "Listen. You live a life like I have for so many years, you start to realize some things. A guy like Joe? He'll have my back so long as I've got his. I'm good to him, he's good to me. But the moment I'm no longer good for him, he won't need me. He'll move on to the next guy. The younger guy. The Pink or the Brown or the goddamn young ass Orange. We're close because I'm good and I'm loyal and I'm still useful. And that's fine. I use him in all the same ways. We all use each other, we all get the shit we need, and we all live happy fucking lives. That's being a fucking crook, kid."

Freddy isn't sure he gets it. He's about to say so, but Larry steals his milkshake, and sucks hard, and Freddy's too busy staring at his mouth to speak.

Larry pushes the milkshake back, and reaches, again, for Freddy's hand. Freddy does not flinch this time. "You get to a point where you realize that if there's something better out there you want, you fucking go for it. 'Cause any other crook would do the same. We'll do our part to stay out of this fucking mess, and Joe gets to stay out of prison for it. I owe him nothin'. You owe him fucking nothin'. He gets to be a free man one more day."

"He'll hate us both if he finds out," Freddy can't help but point out.

Larry shrugs. "You better be goddamn worth it then."

"And if I'm not?"

Larry smiles. "I already know the fucking answer to that."

Freddy wishes he did, too.

"It's been a long fucking life, kid, and I'm fucking tired. I know you've seen my rap sheet. You know shit and I don't wanna talk about how you know shit, but it's been a long fucking life for me," Larry says, and takes another long suck of Freddy's milkshake. "I'm taking what I deserve from this one, okay? Joe will get that or he won't, but he gets a get out of jail free pass if we pull this off, and I'll owe him fucking nothing. He can do with that what he wants."

Freddy tries to hide his smile. "You sayin' you deserve me?"

Larry laughs. "Maybe I fucking do."

"Guess this ain't a bad first date after all." Freddy takes his half-drank milkshake back from Larry to finish it. Maybe they should have got two straws, after all, but who'd have thought Larry'd drink most of it? "And I guess this is better than Cap 'n Crunch."

Larry grunts, and motions for the waitress to bring their check. "I'm throwing that shit away when we get back to your place."

Freddy laughs, and Larry pays, and Freddy doesn't really know why Larry cares this much, why Larry is willing to sacrifice all this shit just for the rat cop he supposedly fell in deep with. But if there are milkshakes and burgers and laughter (and sex) in Freddy's future, if Freddy can have more days like the one they had today, if Freddy can just have Larry...

He'll fucking take it. Maybe he fucking deserves it, too.


End file.
